Impossible.
And so the days crept by in a bleak fog until one morning she woke up obsessed with wanting the artifacts he'd given her, in her apartment. Needing to hold the skean dhu, to wrap her fingers around it in the same places his had once rested.
Which meant leaving her apartment. She tried to think of some other way to get them, but there was none. Only she could access the safety deposit box.
Numbly, she dragged herself to the shower, got sort of wet, then sort of dry, then stumbled to the suitcase she still hadn't unpacked. She tugged on rumpled clothes that may or may not have matched—frankly, she didn't care, at least she wasn't naked and wouldn't get arrested, which would have forced her to speak to people, something she had no desire to do—and took a cab to the bank.
Within a short time she was ushered into a private room with her safety deposit box. She looked at it for a long while, just standing and staring, trying to summon the immense energy necessary to root around in her purse for her wallet. Eventually, she rummaged about for the key and unlocked the long metal box.
She opened it, and froze, staring. Atop her short sword, skean dhu, Keltar brooch, and intricately etched first-century arm band, lay an envelope with her name on it.
In Dageus's handwriting.
She closed her eyes, frantically shutting the sight of it out. She hadn't been prepared for that! Merely seeing his handwriting made her heart feel as if it were breaking all over again.
She took several slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself.
Opening her eyes, she reached for the envelope with trembling hands. What on earth might he have written to her so many weeks ago? They'd only known each other five days before she'd left for Scotland with him!
She untucked the flap and withdrew a single sheet of paper.
Chloe-lass:
If I'm not here with you now, I'm beyond this life, for'tis the only way I'll ever let you go.
She flinched, her whole body jerking. Several long moments passed before she managed to force herself to keep reading.
I hoped I loved you well, sweet, for I know even now that you are my brightest shining star. I knew it the moment I saw you.
Ah, lass, you so adore your artifacts.
This thief covets but one priceless treasure: You.
Dageus
She squeezed her eyes shut as fresh pain lanced through her. The knot in her throat swelled, the burning behind her eyes grew excruciating—yet, still, she refused to cry. There was a perfectly good reason that she hadn't cried since the night he'd disappeared. She knew that if she cried, it would mean he was really gone.
Which also seemed to imply, in perhaps a less than logical way, that as long as she didn't cry, there was hope.
Oh, God, she could picture him! She could see them both, standing in the bank that day. He was tall, dark, and too gorgeous for words. She was so excited, so thrilled and nervous. So fascinated by him.
So distrustful, too, of the dastardly, impossibly sexy Gaulish Ghost. She'd watched every move he made, to be certain he really put her precious artifacts in the box before he locked it and gave her the key.
Still, he'd managed to slip the letter in at the last moment without her seeing it.
Even then. He'd wanted her even then. He'd said, even then, that he would never let her go.
"Ma'am?" a brisk voice interrupted. "My apologies for disturbing you, but they just informed me that you'd arrived. Is Mr. MacKeltar with you?"
Chloe opened her eyes slowly. The bank manager was standing in the doorway. She wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet, so she shook her head.
"Well, then, he asked me to give you this, should you come to collect the contents of the box without him." He handed her a set of keys. "He said he wanted you to have"—he shrugged, regarding her with open curiosity—"whatever it is these keys open. He said it was paid for, and if you didn't wish to retain ownership, you could sell it. He expressed his conviction that it would keep you quite comfortably for the rest of your life." He scrutinized her intently. "Mr. MacKeltar has fairly sizeable accounts in our bank. Might I inquire as to his intentions about those?"
Chloe took the keys with a trembling hand. They were the keys to his penthouse. She shrugged, to indicate that she had no idea.
"Are you all right, ma'am? You look pale. Are you feeling sick? Could I get you a glass of water or a soft drink or something?"
Chloe shook her head again. She tucked the letter in her pocket and slipped the carefully wrapped skean dhu in her purse. The rest of the artifacts she would leave in the bank until she had what she felt was a safe place to keep them.
They would never be sold. She would not part with so much as one precious memory.
She eyed the keys, feeling strangely numb. How carefully he'd planned, how far ahead he'd been looking, even then. Leaving her his penthouse, as if she could ever bear to live there. Or sell it. Or even think about it.